


Afterparty

by orphan_account



Series: Boss [8]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Aggression, Angry Sex, Angst, Awkward Conversations, Boss/Employee Relationship, Control Issues, Denial of Feelings, Drinking, Drunkenness, Embarrassment, F/M, Floor Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Insults, Jealousy, Late at Night, Nervousness, Office Party, Office Sex, Rough Sex, dom!Chilton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just an office party, no big deal. Except you were told that Chilton was on a business trip and had no idea he would be here looking like <em>that</em>. You're nervous to say the least, but at least there are plenty of cocktails to help you out…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dates and Drinks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I took the prompt and ran with it a bit. Hope you like it <3
> 
> Fun fact: I am not an experienced drinker so I had to do a bit of googling here, believe it or not
> 
> I've also been writing a lot lately, yay! I am clearly out of my block, plus I have a few days off from uni so I've had time on my hands, which means more writing for me! May or may not change. Can't make any promises!

You are on your way to your car when you hear a voice calling you. You turn to see a nurse, Jordan, coming up behind you. "Hey," you greet. 

"Hi," he says once he's caught up. "You know that staff party the hospital is having tonight, right?" 

"Yea," you say warily.

"Well, my date just cancelled and I have two tickets," Jordan explains. "Want to be my plus one?"

"Actually, I really wasn't planning on going at all, Jordan…" You start.

"Come on, please?" He says "It'll be fun! Especially since ol' Chilton won't be there."

You roll your eyes. "Chilton really isn't  _that_ bad, you know."

"Yea, well you just don't see as much of him as I do," Jordan says, shrugging.

You try not to smirk.  _Oh, I think I see plenty of him…_ "Fine, I'll go with you," you agree. 

"Awesome! Thanks! I'll pick you up at eight, then?" 

"Sounds good," you say before turning and heading to your car. You aren't particularly excited about the party. It isn't something that you had taken much interest in. You were just planning on a quiet night in, but you like Jordan and he needed a favour, so why would you refuse? Plus there is an old dress hanging in your closet that you had only worn once before and you're dying to take it out again. 

There is also the added bonus of Chilton being away on business for a few days and therefore not being able to attend the party. No matter how much you tried, you couldn't help but feel nervous around him. You feel fine when you're sleeping together because you know what he wants and you know his motives. Strange as it may be, you know that in that moment, he just wants to use you and you are fine with it, but you have no idea how he feels about you outside of that. And since that awkward minute you spent with him in the elevator last week, you've started to see him differently than you did before. Less autocratic. Less emotionless. Less rigid. 

But maybe that's just him playing with you. Messing around, treating you a certain way in order to see your reaction. After all that you have heard he does to inmates, it really wouldn't surprise you. 

It was really for the best that you don't see him often. You'd prefer to keep whatever was happening between the two of you as simple as possible. 

You get home around six, which only gives you two hours to get ready. You shower and do your hair and makeup as quickly as you could, but you are still zipping up your dress when you heard a knock on your door. You let Jordan in and he waits on the sofa until you finish putting on your jewellery and shoes. 

"You look awesome," said Jordan, smiling. 

"Thanks, Jordan," you say, hugging the nurse. "So do you." 

"I know," he says jokingly. "Just try to keep your hands off, please."

You laugh as the two of you walk out the building and to his car. Jordan is a sweet guy, but you are not interested him and he is not interested in you. This date is platonic and nothing was to come out of it, and you both knew it.

The first thing you notice when you walk into the BSHCI is that the majority of the staff is here. You hadn't expected the party to be so popular. Jordan explains that everyone loves staff parties because it's nice to be in a positive atmosphere at the hospital instead of the gloomy one. You, however, find it slightly morbid for everyone to be socializing and drinking and eating hors d'oeuvres in the a building that simultaneously holds some of Baltimore's most dangerous men. You don't say anything, of course, not wanting to be a party pooper. 

In any case, you are glad you came. You are still fairly new to working at the hospital and the party is a wonderful way to get to know colleagues. Everyone is looking great and conversations come along nicely. Although, you had hoped that there would be more food. You hadn't had time to eat anything because your decision to come was so last minute, and fancy cheese and grapes could only satisfy your hunger a bit. 

You are grabbing your fifth cheese cube when Jordan whispers something in your ear. 

"Uh oh," he says. "Guess who just arrived." 

"Oh my god." Your eyes widen when you see Dr. Chilton talking to a fellow psychiatrist. _Shit._ Was there no escaping him? 

"Let's just hope he doesn't decide to come talk to us," Jordan mumbles. 

You nod, popping the cheese into your mouth so you have something to do with you face other than look horrified. Just then, Chilton catches your eyes. He gives you a smile and a nod of the head before turning back to his conversational partner. 

You turn red and Jordan notices. "Hey, are you feeling alright?" he asks, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

You nod quickly. "I'm fine," you squeal, grabbing a glass of chardonnay off the tray of a passing waiter. "Something just went down the wrong way," you fib and then down the glass in three big gulps. You frown internally, knowing that drinking isn't the best idea, especially on an empty stomach, but the jolt of nerves you felt over seeing Dr. Chilton can only be tamed with alcohol. "Come on," you say, linking your arm through Jordan's. "Let's go say hello to Frank."

Chilton saw you as soon as he walked in. You were headed towards the table with all hors d'oeuvres. You looked lovely in the understated maroon dress you wore and it was hard for him to not just waltz up to you and take you right then and there. Luckily, Dr. Zillman quickly greeted him and engaged him in conversation. Keeping you in view from the corner of his eye, Chilton spoke with the doctor. At one point, he looked over at you to see you staring right back at him. You looked positively sick, but he sent you a pleasant smile anyway. 

 _She didn't seem ill when I first walked in,_ he thinks. He looks over to you again, only to see you setting down an empty wine glass and then walking towards a couple with your arm intertwined with a nurse. This makes him frown. 

What, were you dating this man? Not that Chilton cares who you date, but would this mean that your 'arrangement' with him will be terminated? Or have you always had a boyfriend? You didn't seem like the type to cheat on a significant other.

When he sees you standing by yourself a few minutes later, he excuses himself from Zillman and heads towards you. "Good evening," he greets.

You offer him a small smile. "Hello," you say timidly. You shift from one foot to the other and keep glancing around the room instead of looking at him. 

Chilton has no idea what makes you se nervous around him. No matter how tempted he may be, it's not like he's going to rip your clothes off in the middle of an event like this. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"Weren't you supposed to be away on business?" You blurt out instead of answering him. Immediately, you bite your lip in horror, not believing what you just said. 

"What, do you not want me here? Chilton asks with a raised eyebrow. 

"No! No, i-it's not that, I just…" you stutter. "I was just wondering, is all! Just didn't think I would be seeing you here."

He looks at you, clearly displeased. You shrink in nerves and embarrassment. "Uh, will you excuse me, please?" you ask.

"Oh, you need to get back to  _him_?" He gestures with his head to Jordan. 

"Yes, uh, I do. That's Jordan," you stammer. "He's actually a nurse here and-"

"I know who he is," Chilton interjects. "You're here with him?"

You are slightly taken aback by his tone. He seems angry, which makes sense in a way, but you hadn't thought he would care so much. "Yea. I am," you mumble as you grab another glass of wine from a passing waiter. You take a large sip before explaining, "He invited me here."

"Like a date."

You feel overwhelmingly uncomfortable talking to him about this, especially in this setting. You look around the room. No one seems to have really paid much attention to you speaking with Chilton, but then again, people are good at hiding observations. If you stay speaking with him any longer, people might ask you about it come work on Monday. "I'll see you around, doctor," you mumble, slinging away from him before he can stop you.

Chilton lets out a deep breath of frustration as he bitterly watches you head over to Jordan before snapping out of it and turning away. He grabs an hors d'oeuvre from a nearby table and heads back to the fellow doctors. 

You catch up with Jordan speaking with another nurse. "Hey," he says, putting his arm around your waist. 

"Hi," you smile.

"So Chilton showed up out of nowhere," he remarked. "What were you doing talking to him, anyway?" 

"Oh, he was just wondering about a scheduling issue and I told him I would email it to him," you say quickly. "Who's this?" 

Jordan introduces you to the nurse and the three of you have a pleasant conversation, but after awhile, the alcohol kicks in. Drinking on an empty stomach is always a bad idea and you mentally kick yourself once you start feeling the effects of it. You don't want to embarrass yourself, but Jordan seems to be having such a lovely time that you don't want to ask him to take you home. So instead, you move abound, following him around and giggling at basically anything anyone says. 

At one point he grabs your face to look at you. "That wine really hit you hard, didn't it?" he asks laughing. 

You giggle and mimic his actions, putting your hands on his face. "Nothing hit me, Jordan, I feel awwwwesome!" 

"Is something the matter here?"

The two of you turn to see Chilton looking at you with an irritated expression.

"Oh, hello, Dr. Chilton," Jordan greets, letting go of you. "Nothing's wrong, don't worry."

"But he does," you say, placing a hand in Chilton's shoulder. "He worries about everything!"

"I think you had a little too much to drink," he comments. 

"Au contraire, mon ami," you slur as you grab another glass of Chardonnay. "This is only my third drink!" 

Chilton takes the glass from you and hands it to Jordan. "Don't let her drink any more than she already has," he orders.

"Hey, you're not the boss of me!" you say angrily before bursting into a fit of giggles. "Wait, you are! You are the boss of me! You always tell me what to do!" 

He ignores your comment and calls out to his secretary. "Bethanny, will you come here a moment, please?"

"Yes, Dr. Chilton?" she asks once she's come over. 

"Will you take this young lady up to my office, please?" he says, handing her the keys from his pocket. "Give her a nice tall glass of water and lay her down on the sofa. She needs some rest." 

"Of course," Bethanny says, taking the keys and then guiding you from him. 

"You see!" you slur. "Bossy, bossy Chilty!" 

After you are out of sight, Chilton turns to Jordan, who stands awkwardly in front of him. "That was nice of you sir," he remarks.

"Don't you think you should've paid more attention to what she was drinking?" Chilton mutters.

Jordan frowns. "Well, I can't tell her what to do, sir," he says. "Plus, she's not even driving, so it doesn't really matter."

Chilton narrows his eyes at him. "I guess you're right," he says, realizing that his protectiveness may be coming across. _Why am I being so protective, anyway?_  "Now, why don't you go enjoy the party? Don't worry about your date, I'll make sure she gets home safe when she wakes up."  _Maybe it's not protectiveness, but possessiveness. Or just plain irritation._

"Really, sir? I mean, I have no problem with-"

"It's fine." 

Jordan smiles, surprised at what seems like kindness from the administrator. "Thank you, Dr. Chilton." 

"You're welcome," grumbles Chilton before turning away.

Oh, he will _definitely_ be taking care of you when you wake up. 


	2. Apologies and Recoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chilton gets a little carried away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear. Why did I write this.
> 
> Uhhhm, I hope you guys like the direction I went with this. I feel like it's not really what was expected, but I thought it would be very interesting to have a situation like this.  
> I have ideas for the next chapter, but if there is anything at all that you guys might want to see happen after this, please let me know and I'll see if I can work that in! :D

You aren't quite sure where you are when you begin to stir, but it doesn't worry you too much because the surface you are laying on feels very familiar. Slowly, you stretch and open your eyes. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim room, but you soon recognize it as Dr. Chilton's office. But what are you doing here? And why is it so dark? 

You sit up slowly. There is a dull aching in at the back of your skull, but it is not nearly as bad as some of the hangovers you have experienced. You fumble around to find your purse and pull out your phone. You've received two texts from Jordan, one reading,  _In case you don't remember, you're in Chilton's office because you got tipsy at the party. He'll call you a taxi._ And the other one reading,  _Oh, and you might want to apologize for calling him bossy chilty lmao!_

It takes a minute, but you remember everything.  _Shit._ You look at the clock on your phone and your heart starts pounding when you see it's nearly 1am.  _Shit!!_ You run to the window out to the parking lot and sure enough, only a handful of cars remain in the parking lot: those that belong to the staff on night duty, and Chilton's. "No, no, no, no…" You mutter to yourself and you turn and gather your things as quickly as you can, stuffing your phone into your purse and grabbing your shoes as you cross the room quickly to the door. You have no doubt in your mind that Chilton is pissed the hell off at you for the way you behaved and you'd rather get out of here ASAP and not have to deal with him until Monday at work. 

But you freeze when you reach the door. From the other side of the wall, you can hear the clip of Chilton's cane against the hard tile floor. Your breathing wavers and you step back from the door, passing your hand over your face and trying to calm down. Maybe he's just walking by, not actually coming into his office. You take deep breaths and try to keep your lip from quivering, but you can hear the sound of his cane getting closer and closer until you hear a key being inserted into the lock and turned. You stand, your arms limp at your sides and your purse dangling from your fingers as Chilton enters the room. He closes and locks the the door behind him and then turns on the light.

The sudden light hurts your eyes, and you cover them with your hand but Chilton steps forward and grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away from your face so you can look at him. You blink a couple of times to allow your eyes to adjust before taking in his expression.

He looks mad. No. He looks furious. Your stomach churns and you shrink back, the grip he has on your wrist is firm and steady. You decide it's best to just ask for forgiveness before he says anything. "Dr. Chilton, I'm so sorry…" you start but he cuts you off.

"Chilton? Aren't you going to call me by your new nickname for me?" He spits.

"No, sir," you whimper, turning red. 

He puffs and lets go of you. "How are you feeling?" He asks monotonously as he steps around you and walks deeper into his office. 

You turn to look at him. "Uh, alright," you say warily. "Not as bad as I expected."

"That's because I had Bethanny give you a glass of water before putting you down to sleep," Chilton says. "Prevents hangovers. It's an old trick I learned in college."

You don't say anything but rather just watch him as he removes his blazer and throws it on the sofa along with his cane. You can tell he is planning something, but you have no idea what it is.

"Come here," he instructs, his back still turned to you as he removes his watch and tie pin.

You place your purse and shoes on the floor and walk towards him hesitantly. You think you know what he wants - what he always wants - but something seems different. There is something off in his voice. It's low and flat, but you feel like there is something boiling just under the surface. He doesn't seem so angry right now, but maybe it's all an act. You stop when you reach him, standing two feet away from him with your hands folded in front of you. He is turned away from you and you can't really see his face.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" he asks you. He doesn't face you when he asks you this.

"Yes, sir," you say quietly, watching him carefully as he rolls up the sleeves and loosens his tie.

"You didn't know I was going to be here," he states.

"No, sir," you confirm.

Chilton undoes the top two buttons of his shirt. "And so suddenly you felt it was okay to come into my hospital wrapped around another man?" He asks.

"What?!" You feel your blood rush to your face. You had thought he was angry about they way you spoke to him, not that you had come to the party with someone else. "That's not-"

Chilton turns to you suddenly, his expression hard and cold like a statue. "That's why you were so nervous, isn't it?" he snaps. "You hadn't expected to be caught?"

You quickly shake your head. "Dr. Chilton, you've got this all wrong-"

He cuts you off by grabbing you and spinning you around. You gasp and almost fall from the sudden change in footing.

"Who do you think you are?" growls Chilton in your ear. You can feel the pulse pounding in your ear, your heart thudding hard against your ribcage as his hands latch onto the fabric of your dress, pulling it back tightly before starting to undo the zipper in the back.

"The way you talked to me, the date you brought…" he says, his voice low. "If you want to humiliate me, you're going to have to try much harder."

You shudder as you feel his hands push the straps of your dress off your shoulders. "Jordan's just a friend, doctor," you explain quickly. "There's nothing between us!"

Your dress pools at your feet and Chilton moves to unhook your bra. "Do you think that matters to me?" 

You narrow your eyes as your bra falls. "What?" you whisper.

Chilton grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back. You whimper as he presses his lips against your ear. "You don't mean anything to me," he growls in your ear. His voice is low and steady and deliberate. His words are measured and calculated and you feel paralyzed under the weight of them. The heat of his breaths overwhelm you and you feel like you're going to crumble if he keeps talking to you like this. "You're nothing but a secretary."

You feel your breaths getting shallower and shallower and, though you feel weak in his grip, you let the word stumble out of your mouth. " _Receptionist,_ " you correct.

Chilton grabs at the hem of your underwear and pulls it down in one quick movement before taking your elbow and spinning you around you face him. "Get down," he instructs.

You cower as you look at him, taking a step back. You've never seen him so angry.

"Down!" he yells after a moment.

You jump at the sudden volume but oblige, dropping to your knees as he unbuckles his belt. You shudder when he pulls out his hard dick from his pants, feeling vulnerable like you had that when he had handcuffed you to the window in that solitary confinement cell. But this time, it's worse. By now, you had thought you knew all that he was capable of but the look he is giving you right now makes you suddenly very unsure of that. 

Once he is ready, he instructs you to lay flat on your back. You lay down, the cold of the hardwood harsh against your shoulder blades and the small of your back. You spread your legs as Chitlon leans down and positions himself between your thighs, resting his weight on his elbows by your shoulders as he holds your head in his hands. He looks at you for a fleeting moment and begins.

He does not bother with foreplay, but rather just thrusts into you when he's ready. You whimper as he buries himself deep inside of you harshly before pulling out and slamming into you again. You clench your jaw and squeeze your eyes shut in an effort to cope with the discomfort. You weren't wet enough when he entered you and the friction made you want to cry out, but you had kept up a strong face, and you try to maintain it. Your hands clutch at his sleeves and pull at the fabric of his shirt. Your legs are tensed up and you dig your heels into the ground.

Chilton is watching you closely, carefully. You feel his eyes on you but you can only focus after your body gives in to his actions, your sex becoming slick to accommodate his relentless thrusts. Once the whimpers and gasps are replaced with your moans of pleasure, you flatten your hands against his shoulders and unclench the muscles in your legs. Your jaw falls slack as you begin to push back against his cock, though movement is slightly restricted underneath his body.

He fucks you hard and fast, making you feel every inch of him and the pleasure radiates throughout your body in waves. The floor rubs against your bare skin and burns you as Chilton's thrusts shake your body. You're enjoying it, but it's jarring how rough he is being with you. One particular thrusts causes you to cry out and dig your nails into the back of his neck.

He doesn't like that. Pulling out of you, he pulls you up roughly by the wrists, only to move your arms so they are folded behind you. Quickly, he pushes you back down and thrusts again.

Your eyes widen as you look at his face, which is so intense and sober. He is not lost in his actions like you thought he was, but rather he looks calculating, focused, as if he's observing your reactions. As if he wants you to feel small. And it works; you feel so little and helpless beneath him, especially now that his weight is on your torso, keeping your hands and arms trapped underneath you as he continues to pound you against the floor. The bracelets you wear dig into the small of your back and your spine curves into an unpleasant angle that makes Chilton's dick fill you in a new way. 

"That's it…" Chilton groans when you cry out at the strange position and the harsh thrusts. "Let it out." He tangles your ankles with his, putting weight on them so you can't move your legs, and suddenly, you are completely restrained underneath him, unable to move except for the twitch of your hips, the jerk of your shoulders, and the rolling of your head. 

You can't think clearly. Your pulse is pounding, the blood pumping quickly throughout your body as your heart races. The look he has on his face is starting to frighten you so you close your eyes and try to concentrate on the pleasure you are feeling. You ignore your aching wrists and the burning on your shoulder blades and concentrate on the pressure building in your lower stomach. You feel Chilton's breath heavy on your face as he grunts, falling against your tongue and parted lips. Your orgasm hits you hard and you yell out, "Oh, Dr. Chilton!" as you roll your head back against the hardwood.

Chilton grabs your face in his hand and turns it back to him. Your eyes fly open to look into his as he fucks you through your climax. You moan and mewl and shiver as your cunt clenches around him, the orgasm shaking you to your core. You feel it in every inch of you and it makes you feel like your are falling apart at the seams or like you are falling deeper and deeper into the sea as you slowly dissolve into foam. The fact that you can barely move and the fact that Chilton has not let up his thrusting prolong it, making you feel like it'll never end and you will stay forever in this state of absolute bliss mixed with paralysing fear. 

But you don't. You finish and fall limp, your muscles unclenching and your body relaxing as you close your eyes and your mouth. Now you just have to wait until Chilton finishes. 

He still has not let go of your face, his fingers on one of your cheeks and his thumb on the other. You gasp and open your eyes again when he tightens his grip so much that the skin hurts against your teeth and your mouth is forced open. 

He looks at you, his eyes dark. "I own you, understand?" He tells you in a low voice. "I tell you what to do. From where you go to who you fuck, you answer to _me._ " He moves his hand back to the floor. 

You don't respond, just continue to stare up at the man slamming into you. Your wrists hurt, you are sensitive from your orgasm, your back is twisted and your legs are beginning to ache. You watch, shivering, as Chilton grits his teeth and, with one last grunt, comes. His head drops, causing his hair, which is damp from perspiration, to touch your chin and tickle your nose. His load spills onto your stomach and thighs and you feel it hot against your skin as he sighs before pushing himself up and away from you. 

He stands moments later once he has fully recovered from his orgasm and tucks himself back into his pants and buckles his belt. You spread out on the floor and watch him for a bit as he fixes the sleeves of his shirt. He doesn't look at you. His back is turned to you and he doesn't even glance your way and suddenly, you feel like nothing. 

He's been using you this entire time and you had never minded it, but this is the first time he has made you feel like this: completely useless. Not a person, but a thing that he plays with. Not someone he could ever care about, even in the way you care about a stranger passing you on the street. Replaceable. Unimportant. 

Nothing.

You wish the floor would just swallow you up and save you the ordeal of having to stand up and get dressed in front of him, of having to smile and thank him when he calls you that taxi, of having to face him again when the weekend ends. 

But you have to. You have to get up and move on but you don't think you can just yet. You hate the idea of Chilton seeing you look so weak and vulnerable, but you feel so broken that you stay on the floor. You turn to your side and curl inwards, bringing your knees to your chest as you bury your face in your arms.

When he is finished fixing his shirt and tie, Chilton reaches for his blazer but pauses. You are being oddly silent and he realizes that he hasn't heard you getting dressed. Not a single crinkle of fabric and definitely not the sound of a zipper. Did he even hear you get up? He turns, confused, and freezes when he sees you curled on the floor, still naked, shivering. His heart speeds up and his stomach churns. He stays still for a moment in shock before coming towards you. He sees you flinch as you hear his footsteps draw near and it sends a wave of horror through him. 

He leans down and takes your arm in a firm grip. He can tell you want to resist as he pulls you up to your feet, but you are too exhausted to fight him. You stare up at him as he holds you in front of him by the elbows, your hands in front of your chest. His collar is wet from sweat and his hair is disheveled, but he looks fine otherwise. He looks down at you with a look that you can't place. You have never seen it before. Your lips tremble. "Please…" you whimper, your breathing uneven as your eyes dart across his face. You don't think you could take any more.

The colour drains from Chilton's face as he looks at the state you're in. This was not what he wanted. This was not what he intended. He's never seen you like this and he never wants to. He lets go of your elbows to wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull you close against him.

You stiffen as you are pressed to him, your hands sandwiched between the both of you.  _What is happening?_ You stay still as Chilton spreads his fingers across your bare back, caressing you softly. "I'm so sorry," you hear him whisper into your hair. "I'm so sorry." 

You don't know what to think, but you feel yourself relaxing and then melting against him, opening your hands to press your palms against his chest and bury your face in his shoulder. He tightens his grip around you as you lean most of your weight against him, shaking and shivering as he presses his lips to your head. 

You stay that way for a few minutes until Chilton guides you to the sofa. He drapes his blazer over your shoulder and then pulls you down with him to the cushions. You curl up on his lap, your arms wrapped around his ribs as he strokes your back and places kisses on your forehead and against your hair. You hadn't anticipated how comforting a hug from him could be. With all the fucking that the two of you had been doing, you didn't know how amazing a cuddle could feel. You are still wary and reeling from what he said to you and the way he looked at you and how he made you feel, but for now, you really need the comfort. 

"I didn't realize I was hurting you," he murmurs sombrely.

You let out a shaky breath. "You weren't hurting me," you say slowly. "It was just… overwhelming."

Despite your lack of a proper explanation, Chilton seems to understand and wraps his arms even more tightly around you. "I'm sorry," he says again, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face to your neck. "I am so fucking sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!!


	3. Bracelets and Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Chilton both head home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the final chapter for Afterparty! Added a bit of angst because who doesn't like angst?! Sorry it took a bit longer. It took a couple days for me to completely settle on the direction I wanted to go in, and by that time, classes had started again. Hopefully you guys think it was worth the wait!

It was unexpected to say the least. You didn't know what he was going to do when he pulled you up off the ground but you were sure it was going to completely humiliate you, whether sexually like making you give him a lap dance or otherwise like fire you. Your stomach had felt like it was being turned inside out and you could barely hear anything over the sound of the blood rushing behind your ears and, shaking, you pleaded with him only to have him pull you to his chest so tenderly. 

He had held you, kissed your hair, stroked your back, and apologized. Over and over. 

But it had ended just as suddenly as it had occurred. Chilton pulled his arms from around you and guided yours off him. "Get dressed," he said monotonously. "I'll call you a taxi."

You had merely nodded but he didn't see it because he was on his feet within seconds. You dressed as he made the phone call, staring at his turned back and willing him to look at you, but he didn't. He had gone back to the way he always acted and you were left wondering what had caused the sudden moment of kindness and compassion from him. 

You had waited, shivering, outside the lobby of the BSHCI for the taxi. It was really the more interesting cab rides you'd ever taken. Whereas you were sure that picking up girls in cocktail dresses at two in the morning was not a new occurrence for the taxi driver, you doubted he had to pick them up from a hospital for the criminally insane. It felt like he was constantly watching you in the mirror to make sure you didn't attack him. You wanted to tell him that he was being ridiculous and that the hospital only held men and that even if you were an escaped inmate, why on earth would you be dressed like this? But you didn't. Instead, you bargained with him until he agreed, after you promised a generous tip, to take you through a drive thru. You still hadn't eaten anything and you were beyond starving. And so you were left sitting at the back of a taxi while eating a Big Mac with the lettuce falling on your cocktail dress while the driver eyed you suspiciously and made judgements and assumptions about your life choices. 

You walked up the steps of your apartment building slowly, your heels held in your hands and your purse dragging behind you, hitting the corners of the steps as you climbed them. You leaned all your weight against the elevator wall as you rode up to your floor. You fumbled with the keys when trying to unlock the door because your vision was starting to blur and you were feeling dizzy from exhaustion. You stumbled into your apartment and dropped everything you were holding and headed straight to the bedroom. You didn't bother to remove your dress, makeup, or jewellery and instead plopped down onto your bed and fell asleep almost straight away. You knew that it was easier to sleep this way because it meant you could look in the mirror in the morning without knowing how much of a wreck you were when you left Chilton's office. It meant you could pretend that the smudged eye shadow and smeared eyeliner was from sleeping in your makeup. It meant you could pretend that the marks on your back were caused by the zipper of your dress scratching your skin while you slept and that the red lines on your wrist were because you put weight on your bracelets. It may be hard to pretend that the dried substance on your legs was anything but semen, but it could still mean that you could pretend that the hour you spent with Chilton was just a dream that you had. 

It would be like the night never happened. 

But while you were in a deep sleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, Chilton lay awake for hours after he crept into his bed. Images flashed through his mind so completely vividly of you curled against the hardwood floor. Your back curved inwards so he could see the notches of your spine, your legs pressed against the flesh of your stomach. Your hair tangled and loose and in disarray. Your face turned downwards toward the hardwood, resting against your arm and your fingertips against the floor, pushing down hard enough for them to turn white. The sweat that lined your body, the marks left all over you, the qualms that rippled through you. 

You had looked so vulnerable, but it was not the beautiful delicacy that he saw in you normally. It was not the same as all those other times that you made yourself vulnerable underneath him. It was different. It made you look broken.

And he had been the one to break you. It made him want to surrender all his power and hold you in his arms. So that is what he did. He pulled you to his chest and clutched on to you tightly and whispered his apologies against your skin. He didn't want you to feel like nothing, no matter what he had said to you.

He was full of regrets, but as he sat on the sofa with you curled against his body and his blazer over your shoulders, something dark and heavy crept over him and filled him completely. 

It shouldn't matter how you felt. This was never about feelings. It was only about sex and nothing else. You were someone that he liked to use, and nothing else. It pissed him off to see you with another man, and rightly so because it meant that he would have to find a new plaything. That it was you who he liked to fuck was just a matter of timing. It wouldn't be too hard for him to find someone else, especially with all the people that are in the hospital all the time. It just so happened that he had heard you in that old solitary confinement cell over his recording devices - a simple case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time (or the right place at the right time). If it had been someone else, he was sure the outcome would be more or less the same. 

So, no, you weren't special. And he didn't have to treat you kindly because you both knew where each of you stood in this arrangement. You always complied to what he said, you always met him when he asked. You enjoyed yourself, you asked for more constantly so it wasn't like he was forcing you into anything you didn't want to do. There was no reason for him to be comforting you like this.

So he pushed you away and called a taxi for you. He made a point to not look at you at all afterwards so that you would know that he did not view you differently than he always had. You still meant nothing to him, just as you always had and just as you always will.

He stood in his office, staring out the window at the parking lot entrance to the BSHCI. From where he stood, he couldn't see the where you were, but he saw the taxi he called pull in, and then also as it pulled out. He waited until it was no longer visible on the road to leave his office, locking the door behind him. He drove home in a haste, slamming his palm against the steering wheel every time he hit a red light. 

He pushed his way into his kitchen as soon as he entered his house and poured himself a glass of whiskey, then another, then three more after that. Then he threw the glass against the wall, watching it shatter and fall down. He left it on the floor, shattered, and he couldn't think of anything but how he should have left you like that as well. 

He stared at the ceiling of his bedroom for so long, thinking of the look on your face when he pulled you up. Despite all that he had decided, despite what his mind told him, despite the lack of compassion he told himself he had towards you, Chilton's stomach still flipped unpleasantly at how he hurt you.

Or rather, 'overwhelmed' you. 

But what was different about tonight? He had felt it, too. He had never felt so desperate to be with you as he did in that moment. He wanted to rip you away from that nurse as soon as he saw his hand resting so comfortably on the small of your back, his thumb stroking you in small arches as you laughed at his comments. You had smiled so freely as you circled the floor, talking to everyone with that wide smile and those bright eyes, but that disappeared every time you caught Chilton looking in your direction. Until the wine kicked in, of course. Then you didn't stop smiling. 

 _She probably hates me_ , Chilton thought. _It doesn't matter, though, because most people do_. But.

He doesn't want you to hate him. He doesn't. He wants you to like him. He had never felt anything like this towards you before and it was distressing, unsettling.

And it was these thoughts that kept him awake. It didn't matter how tightly he would wrap his soft sheets around himself and it did not matter how many times he changed his pyjamas in an effort to get more comfortable. Thoughts and images of you flooded his mind until the sun rose. He left a message on the answering machine in his office to let the secretary know that he won't be coming in and to reschedule his appointments. 

He dragged his feet to the living room and laid on his living room couch with the TV on and a bowl of cashews until he finally fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. He didn't dream of anything. After all the images that had gone through his mind, it almost felt like he didn't need to see anything more in his unconsciousness. 

He did not wake up until late in the evening. Cursing himself for sleeping on the couch and thus waking up with a pulled muscle in his back, he fixed himself a meal before retiring to his bedroom; he wanted to get some work done before going back to sleep. Despite spending most of the day sleeping, he still felt overwhelmingly tired. So he lay in bed, running over the things he had to do at work that he missed today. Sunday was his day off but he would hit the ground running as soon as the weekend was over.

He decided that the most important thing was to walk past the reception desk on Monday morning and at the end of the day as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He wouldn't even look at you as he made his way to the elevator.

As far as he was concerned, last night never happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you have any ideas/requests/prompts/situations you would like me to write about! For the series or otherwise! :D

**Author's Note:**

> So I have been adding more to this series than I thought I would, especially leading up to the events of The Incident, so the timeline probably seems weird now. In The Incident, it says it's been two months since Reader and Chilton started hooking up but it seems to short now so idk I guess add a few more months to it. I'll decide later LOL


End file.
